


Never Let a Talaxian Plan Your Wedding:

by mabb5



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 08:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7837462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabb5/pseuds/mabb5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot of people have written wildly varying versions of the wedding of Kathryn and Chakotay.  Well, this is my foray into that plot quagmire.  And in keeping with the STV universe that I created for “Man’s Best Friend”, “Shaken Not Stirred” and “Meet Me Tonight at Seven”, this one should fit right in with all of that craziness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Though at times a bit naughty, there will be nothing “M“ rated. At least, not in this story.
> 
> I wrote and posted this story on fanfic about three years ago. And then my computer died. I finally have a new one so I am trying to play catch-up and posting everything that was on fanfic here, as well as posting all the new stuff.
> 
> And please, if you feel so inclined, leave a review - good or bad. It's what encourages writers to keep on writing, if only to prove the negative reviewer is in error. Heaven knows, I once turned a short story into a novel in the TNG universe because people kept encouraging me. And their kind words have brought about my continuation of that alternate universe which is something that I don't think that I really would have done without those reviews.
> 
> As always, Paramount's property but fandom's playground.

NEVER LET A TALAXIAN   
PLAN YOUR WEDDING

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Chapter 1:   
To Err Is Human… 

Error #1:

 

“Captain’s Personal Log: Stardate: How the hell should I know? I don’t think I’ve known a thing in months! It’s my wedding night and here I am, all alone in my ready room. I am dictating my personal log rather than whispering naughty nothings to the man I love. I am NOT on a honeymoon. And, I am nowhere near a bed that contains my husband in it. In fact, I am hiding out from a group of well-wishers out to drive me nuts. So, maybe my mind is having a hard time comprehending all of these distressing facts - accurate stardates be damned!”

 

A very disgruntled Captain Kathryn Janeway shifted about in her ready room desk chair, as best she could. Being approximately eight months, three weeks and two days pregnant - give or take a few hours - was not a physical condition compatible with comfortable sitting. Or lying down. Or standing up. Or observing one’s toesies when they were not stuck in the stirrups of one of sickbay’s obstetrical diagnostic beds that she did not doubt were designed by someone named ‘Torquemada’.

Kathryn harrumphed as she contemplated her toes. If it hadn’t been for Samantha Wildman, Naomi Wildman, the Delaney twins and B’Elanna’s bridal shower, she would have gone to her own wedding with unpolished toe nails. Fortunately, Naomi was willing to paint them for her after the Delaneys convinced their captain that no bride should be married without a pedicure. Kathryn wasn’t quite sure what color her toenails were, though. All she knew for sure was that her toenails glittered - and glowed in the dark. She had a sneaking suspicion that the base coats alternated between chartreuse and neon pink for each toe. But since the flashing top coats projected holographic images of Flotter running back and forth across her feet, now and then pausing to pick a biliously colored poesy or two, she no longer cared what color they really were. She just knew that when the doctor saw them, she would never hear the end of it (for she could not bend over to use polish remover on her toes). 

 

She was also very glad that she had not married Tom Paris. She could only imagine Tom’s pithy bon mots if he ever saw her toenails. Fortunately, she knew that Chakotay, at least, worshipped her. Even if he noticed her strangely decorated nails, he wouldn’t say anything unkind.

 

Kathryn was wrong on that count. Though to be honest, no one could have predicted (or blamed) a Chakotay doubled over and rolling and pounding on the holodeck floor, guffawing with hysterical laughter at his first sight of them. 

Matters were not helped by the fact as to the event that precipitated how he saw the toenails. It was at their wedding reception - in front of everyone. Chakotay had bent down to remove Kathryn’s slipper in order to drink champagne from it for one of their many wedding toasts - none of which, of course, was something with which the bride could partake in due to her pregnant status since all the drinks not to be offered to her had considerable alcoholic content. 

As she watched Chakotay rolling on the floor, Kathryn had the sneaking suspicion that Chakotay might have been up all night at the bachelor party that Tom had hosted for him at Sandrine’s. And that her beloved had gone to the wedding from there, only pausing to put on the traditional ceremonial clothes of his tribe before coming straight to Holodeck One.

In short, she suspected that her newly designated spouse was already somewhat three sheets to the wind before he’d even said the sacred bonding words of his people. 

Now, Kathryn really understood why Tuvok had been coaching Chakotay with the words to their ceremony. At the time of their wedding, she had merely thought that her husband-to-be was simply nervous. She’d been wrong about that too.

Captain Janeway’s little list of the sins that soon-to-be-ensign-again Tom Paris had committed, was beginning to grow longer. Much longer.

She really should have eloped.

Just in case her computer had not caught that sentence, she repeated it again in a much louder tone of voice: “I really should have eloped! No muss. No fuss. No Talaxian matrimonial (aka fertility) rites…”

She shuddered at the thought of those rites and what they had entailed.

And then she reflected back as to how she had gotten into this mess in the first place. And the real purpose as to why she was hiding out in her ready room. The only reason as to why she was hiding out in her ready room was because no one had thought to look for her here - again. Though once again, as soon as she detects the shivaree crowd approaching her sanctum, she’d have to do another site-to-site transfer to stay ahead of the mob. She knew that the shivaree mob was being led by Neelix. The Talaxian had really taken to the idea of banging iron frying pans and cow bells to celebrate her marriage to Chakotay with great glee. It was followed by considerable Talaxian overabundant enthusiasm as he mastered this Old Earth tradition. 

And though Chakotay and his hangover headache might have deserved to hear such unending noise, her own frazzled nerves could not handle just one more thing - much less a din. So she’d fled to her ready room. She knew that they couldn’t trace her through her comm badge since she’d left it in her quarters before her marriage. And she’d locked out the transporter controls to her voice command only, so they couldn’t get to her that way either.

And any qualms that she might have had about using energy unnecessarily was squashed by the fact that she would quash all requests for hangover medicines before the start of the day shift. That should be enough energy saved to replace what she was using for transportation. If not, well, she had double checked with Engineering. They had an eight month reserve - which was more energy than what they usually had available during any typical month on board Voyager. And this past month had been anything but typical.

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Error #2: Things you should avoid when you propose…

 

This mess had all started when Chakotay’s spirit guide had proposed to Kathryn’s spirit guide. This was not quite what Kathryn had been expecting when Chakotay had whispered Acoochemoya by her earlobe before he nibbled it in the privacy of her cabin. 

Because of her advanced pregnant status, they were sitting on her bed instead of the floor. With his hot breath on her neck, she had breathlessly agreed with whatever it was that he was suggesting. And then, she’d become entranced to a certain extent, with his sweetly murmured pleas. At first, she was somewhat overcome by the rightness of his whispered suggestions and was inclined to grant him anything that he requested. She then decided that the bonding words whispered back in the vision were a sufficient declaration of her love for this man. He should know her by now…

Chakotay however, had interpreted those same words completely differently. Because he did know her by now. She was ducking reality again… And conversely, she should have known how well he knew her by now as well…

Before Janeway knew it, he had arranged for Tuvok to become the temporary captain of Voyager so that the Vulcan could legally marry them in a ceremony that was a combination of Federation legalities and ancestral traditions. (It would take Kathryn a few days to figure out that Chakotay had clearly been plotting such a marriage ceremony for quite a while. The details had been too well-thought out…)

From her point of view, it was a whirlwind marriage.

Later on she would discover that he had even discussed such a possible marriage with Neelix - for months beforehand. Which had given the Talaxian plenty of time to plan. For that transgression alone, she would torment Chakotay forever.

And then there was the way that Chakotay proposed…

A girl dreams all of her life about how her beloved would propose to her. These dreams usually include her beloved on bended knee, protesting his devotion. Hopefully, he’d be holding a ring as well. And considering Chakotay’s deep, intrinsic sense of romanticism, Kathryn had been hoping for a proposal that was cosmically extraordinary. 

And indeed, his official proposal to her was cosmically memorable. But not in the romantic way of her hopeful dreams.

She thought about his proposal and remembered how Chakotay had done it…

“Kathryn…”

“Yes, Chakotay?” Kathryn bestowed a beautiful smile upon him liking the way he looked in his boxer shorts and robe, for he was planning on going to the holodeck in a few minutes. She thought about joining him for though she couldn’t do much about it, she could still gaze upon a shirtless Chakotay appreciating his manly physique for hours. 

And then she returned to eating her almost-midnight snack of blueberries and frozen coffee yoghurt mixed in with gagh.

Chakotay ignored the food that he saw before him, as he inwardly tried to control an instinctive shudder for he had noticed that some of the worms were still moving. 

He considered Kathryn. And he knew that this was it. He had to tell her. 

“Kathryn, my love…”

She looked into his eyes even as she munched a Vulcan pickle.

“Yes, Chakotay?”

He knelt on both knees in front of her, imploring, “The crew cannot take any more. I cannot take any more.”

“Any more what?” At this moment, Kathryn was puzzled. She put down her pickle.

He drew a deep breath, seriously considered dashing for the Antarian cider for false courage before he continued speaking, and then gathered up the mantle of his ragged nerves about him before he found the guts to continue. He clutched her knees.

“Kathryn, we have got to get married.”

Kathryn dropped her spork. “Just because we’re having a baby doesn’t mean that we have to get married…”

“My love, that’s not what I meant. We must marry. I can’t take it any more.” These words just tumbled out as he tried to explain himself.

“I repeat - what can’t they - or you - take any more?” There was an edge to her voice, as if the ‘captain’ was about to emerge at any second. This was not the way that she’d envisioned Chakotay proposing to her…

He focused and dealt with the important stuff first. “I love you. For starters, your tendency to send anyone to the brig on a whim.”

“You mean Tuvok, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Amongst others.”

“Well, Tuvok should have known better! After all he wasn’t the first person that I’d sent to the brig today! You’d have thought by now that Tuvok would have a clue not to say ‘Captain, I would advise that a woman in your condition should not do that…’ to my face!”

“I guess he did deserve his brig time.” Wondering what the Vulcan could have possibly been thinking, Chakotay warily agreed. 

“Damn right he did!” Kathryn had not sentenced most of the offending crewmembers to the brig for too long a time. Usually for no more than an hour or two. Or six…

“But what about Harry Kim? You sent him to the brig for six hours.”

She beady-eyed her soul mate. “Harry was hovering. Hovering! You know, I don’t even permit you to do that…” She didn’t have to give voice to an unspoken promise of doing the same to him if he dared to hover too. 

Though he didn’t really believe that she’d go so far as the brig with him.

“Harry cares about you. They all do.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure that there are a few crewmembers in the lower decks who don’t ‘care’ for me.”

Considering how Kathryn had been behaving as of late, Chakotay refrained from mentioning anything about his suspicions as to the current feelings of her command staff toward their commanding officer. Then he reconsidered something.

“Kathryn?” He moved on his knees, even closer to her.

“Yes, Chakotay?”

He put his arms on her hips, pulling her body closer to his. Leaning near her right ear he whispered, “Would you ever throw me into the brig?”

Kathryn pulled back slightly. She had to think about it. The minutes stretched on a bit before she finally answered. “No, I don’t think so.” He audibly sighed in relief. “Just don’t take my coffee away from me again, and then, I won’t even think about ever considering it.”

Chakotay shuddered. The EMH had told Kathryn that she was permitted one cup of coffee per day, and the EMH was not specifying a 2.5 litre mug. There had been a battle royale over the size of her coffee cup during her pregnancy. Chakotay knew that Kathryn would not deliberately endanger their son, but still, when Kathryn was at her stubborn best, it was quite often the principle of the thing. And her coffee consumption most definitely fell into this category. Besides, he was convinced that she argued about it just to bedevil him for the caffeine levels in her blood when the EMH had surreptitiously scanned her indicated that she was indeed following her doctor’s instructions.

Kathryn stretched, damning him for what his nearness was doing to her hormones since there wasn’t that much that she could do about it right now, picked up a few stray blueberries that had fallen from her bowl onto her rotund tummy, considered all of Chakotay’s statements, and then nodded.

“What?” Chakotay warily asked as he observed a different expression on Kathryn’s face. Suddenly, she became the woman that he’d always loved.

“Chakotay…” She closed her eyes for a second, and then smiled when she opened them. “Yes, Chakotay, I will marry you.”

His sigh of relief was audible, even as he pulled her into his arms as best he could.

“I agree we should be married. So, let’s get married. Right away. But I want a small wedding. Simple. Tasteful. With Tuvok officiating and only two witnesses. We’ll tell the crew afterwards that we’ve been in a relationship.”

When it came to what the crew knew about their relationship, she was somewhat clueless, as usual…

Chakotay waited for Kathryn to add something to her statement. When she didn’t, he gathered her even closer up into his arms, ignored the gagh breath, and kissed her soundly.

His joy - and relief - was contagious. Kathryn pulled her beloved onto her bed, intending to celebrate their engagement, such as it was, with a few well-placed kisses. She still had a few pleasurable options for him, that she could do to Chakotay in spite of her rotund condition. Chakotay eventually reciprocated in kind.

One of the last coherent things she uttered was, “Maybe Tom could plan a small party… Don’t let…” She never got around to mentioning her opinion of Neelix planning her party for suddenly her exhaustion overcame her and she slept in sated peace, secure in Chakotay’s arms.

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Error #3: Failing to precisely define the words   
you use when instructing a Talaxian…

 

Tom at first was flattered when Chakotay swore him to secrecy and then told him about the need to plan a wedding reception.

“Let me guess,” Tom answered, as he sat, wide-eyed, by Chakotay’s desk in the man’s office. Tom idly reckoned that he could count on one hand the number of times that he’d been in Chakotay’s office when it had not been about a disciplinary matter. He’d never really bothered - or had the time - to look around before.

“Guess what, Tom.”

“You said that the captain wants something simple. Tasteful.”

“That’s right. Can you do it, Tom?”

“Sure. But I’ll have to consult Neelix.”

“Permission granted, but only if you emphasize the ‘simple’ and ‘tasteful’ part to Neelix, Tom. Kathryn’s under enough stress as it is. She really doesn’t need anything more added to it.”

“I’m sure that our doc would agree.” Tom nodded. “Relax, and just leave it all to me.”

Chakotay shuddered as if a ghost had just walked over an ancestral grave. He wondered if Tom’s words would be his epitaph when Kathryn was through with him.

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

 

When Tom told Neelix of the captain’s conditions, he nodded, imagining that he had a complete understanding of the situation. “Tasteful and simple?” Neelix repeated, just to be absolutely sure that was what the captain wanted. Oddly enough, no one had thought to consider Chakotay’s preferences when it came to the wedding celebration - but that is another tale…

“That’s what she wants,” Tom agreed. He idly picked up a carved raw vegetable floret from the top of a salad that Neelix was preparing in the galley. It took all of his willpower not to spit it out when he realized that Neelix was now carving leola root into flower forms in order to disguise the vegetable. He turned his gagging reflex into a cough as he surreptitiously removed the offending vegetable, hiding it in the palm of his hand. He dropped it to the floor, kicking it under the counter. Then he eyed the various colored florets about the salad. He now had a sneaking suspicion that Neelix might be staining the dreaded raw root different colors in order to fool unsuspecting crewmembers. 

Tom dearly wished that 7 of 9’s beautiful copper still was assembled at the moment. Now that everyone on Voyager knew the real purpose for leola root’s existence in the universe, it was a positive sin not to use all leola root for its true destiny in life which was making the best vodka in any known quadrant. One day, the alpha quadrant would know this truth too.

Neelix hadn’t noticed Tom’s reaction to the floret. Instead, the Talaxian focused on thinking out loud. “Well, Captain Janeway deserves better than ‘simple’, but if that is what she wishes, then I will do it. As for ‘tasteful’, well, Captain Janeway’s tastes and mine have always been simpatico, so ‘tasteful’ is the easy part. I know that whatever I like, she’ll appreciate it too…”

Tom started choking again. And this time he hadn’t tasted another thing.

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Error #4: Never assume that there are no boundaries   
that an enthusiastic Talaxian will not cross.

 

Kathryn Janeway did not believe her eyes. She had known that she would have a combination bridal-slash-baby shower. No one - especially B’Elanna - could pass up such an opportunity to honor/and/or/embarrass her. Kathryn really didn’t want either one, (in spite of the ‘loot’) though she logically concluded that if Naomi came to the shower - and it was hard to imagine a shower being held without the captain’s assistant in attendance - that at least it would not turn into a raunchy festivity.

Kathryn Janeway was wrong again. It did not please Captain Janeway to be wrong again.

The moment that she entered the holodeck for her ‘surprise’ shower, she was greeted with a wall of dead silence from the guests already in the room Then she saw it. And she understood why all talking had ceased in her presence. For what she was viewing was almost beyond description. Her vision consisted of a holographic movie on the walls depicting something swimming, for she was not exactly sure what the ‘something’ was at first.

What looked like tadpoles with long, eel-like appendages were swimming in animation along the holodeck walls with one purpose, in one direction. The largest of the tadpoles with a bear-form head bore an eagle wing tattoo that seemed very familiar. Kathryn slowly turned around, watching the progress of the streaming tadpole video wallpaper toward their destination. Once she deduced what their goal was, she closed her eyes for a second, before re-inspecting the scene before her just to be absolutely positive that she was indeed seeing what she thought she was seeing; her only comment was uttered through gritted teeth to the spellbound room. 

“I’ll kill him.”

Since B’Elanna was standing next to her captain, she got to guess which ‘him’ the captain meant. She also added a few pithy Klingon observations to her captain’s comment when she truly recognized the theme of the projection as well.

For the tadpole goal was to swim into something that looked like a giant purple orchid. Except that it was not quite a giant purple orchid. In fact, the details that were revealed as the video progressed, closely resembled in mammoth preciseness, a certain portion of the human anatomy strictly belonging to the female. 

“Is that what I think it is?” a curious Naomi asked of her mother.

“No!” quite a few of the shower guests shouted in chorus.

“It’s not a flower?” Naomi prodded her mother.

The Delaney twins giggled.

Samantha Wildman stated, “Yes, Naomi, it is a flower. And now, it’s time for your nap.” She dragged a visibly resisting little girl out of the holodeck.

As the last of the shower guests entered the room, they were stunned into silence too. Though perhaps it was the expression on Captain Janeway’s face that was the impetus for their shutting up.

The loudest sound in the room was Captain Janeway taking a very deep breath as she broke the silence. When she spoke, none of her displeasure was evident in her voice. “B’Elanna, can you incorporate this scene into Sandrine’s programming?”

“Uh, yes, I can, captain. But, do you really think such an action is wise? I know Chakotay. And Tom.” She watched the tattooed sperm swim by again. “They might view this vision as a confirmation of the First Officer’s, uh, virility.”

“You do have a point,” Captain Janeway grudgingly admitted. She was thinking first with her hormones again…

“I’m sure Chakotay had no idea…” Tom’s wife wasn’t about to protest her husband’s innocence, though. She knew better. “I’ll go erase it.”

“No - save it. Put it in my private yearly reports file. I will one day want to know the identity of the perpetrator or perpetrators who programmed this ‘gift’ for me, thinking that it was an ‘appropriate’ theme for the decor of my bridal and baby shower.” She glanced over at the multi-colored bridal/baby cake complete with peace roses mounted on top of a huge diaper form cake. It was unfortunate that someone thought that coffee butter cream icing was an acceptable color for certain areas of the diaper. “I shall thank them at the proper time. And in my own special way.”

“May I suggest Klingon pain sticks?” B’Elanna helpfully recommended to her captain.

Kathryn Janeway considered it. And nodded. She liked that idea.

“I shall do it,” Tuvok remarked as he stepped up to his captain. He placed a rather large wrapped package and a small package on the gift table. Both were covered in aesthetically pleasing, Zen-style wrapping paper. “Since I am only here to bring to you my gifts, I shall have time to resolve this incident before I go on duty.”

Kathryn clutched his arm. “Thank you, Commander Tuvok.” She patted his chest. “At least you are understanding. And a considerate, wonderful male…”

“I have survived many pregnancies with my wife and daughters. And thanks to our long relationship, I can predict certain of your responses. For I know you, Captain Janeway.” Tuvok pulled a clean handkerchief from out of his sleeve. He handed it to her. For he had observed that Kathryn Janeway was prone to tearful outbursts at the most unexpected moments.

She took his handkerchief, used it and then added it to her collection. For she was a vengeful captain at the moment, and wouldn’t give way to more copious tears just yet. Though if a naked Neelix popped out of that cake, she just might…

“Thank you, Commander. You have been the dearest of friends.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your shower, Captain Janeway.” 

The way he said it told Kathryn Janeway his opinion of the likelihood of that happening. Unfortunately, she agreed with him as she glanced about the room. No decoration in it was tasteful or simple. And for some reason, the color scheme was orange and purple. Kathryn Janeway hated that color combination…

With his final remark, Commander Tuvok beat a dignified but hasty retreat. 

He was half-tempted to go to Sandrine’s to give warning to the likely decorating conspirators, as to the captain’s response to her shower decorations. But then he logically concluded that surely whomsoever had done the decorating must have known what Kathryn Janeway’s likely response to the visual depiction of ceiling high insemination animation would be. They deserved their fate. 

Besides, not that he was a vengeance-minded Vulcan, but Tuvok well remembered the time a certain pilot and a certain first officer saw fit to pelt him with buttered popcorn during a James Bond movie night. Tuvok knew what his innate sense of honor required. At peace with his decision, Tuvok pivoted in the opposite direction of Sandrine’s holodeck. And as he walked away, perhaps, when a crewman passed the Vulcan by in the corridor, one might even suspect that there was a ghost of a smile on Tuvok’s face.

An hour later, Kathryn Janeway was all tuckered out. She tried not to show it as she opened the eleventh package containing naughty silk crotchless unmentionables that she might be able to fit into again about a year from now, after her baby was born. And if she lost her thirty pounds of baby fat…

Not that she wasn’t grateful for all the presents. The majority of them were practical items that the mother-to-be could actually use. And considering how many rationed credits were involved in giving her such gifts, she was truly touched by the generosity of her crew. She was bringing her baby into a real family…

What made her laugh though, was Tuvok’s baby present. It was a mobile of starships to hang over the baby’s crib. It consisted of many different types of Vulcan Starfleet vessels as well as Voyager, the Delta Flyer and the Sacajawea shuttle. She could tell that Tuvok had made it himself. And her heart was touched. Tuvok’s bridal shower present was completely different. It was a meditation candle. She knew that once she began living with Chakotay, she would certainly need it.

She caressed the colorful quilts, the afghans, the booties and the shawls that some of the crew had knitted or made for her. Though she had privately been crocheting a baby blanket as well, she knew that all of these presents would be put to good use. She had giggled when she’d seen B’Elanna’s baby presents. It consisted of a pacifier with a bat’leth shaped soft plastic handle. And a stuffed toy animal - a teddy targ.

Of course, B’Elanna’s bridal shower present was something that she’d wear for Chakotay long after their baby was born. She inspected the butter soft leather bra and matching short shorts. There wasn’t much to them. Though she suspected that Chakotay would really like it when she could fit into them. Maybe she could talk him back into his leather pants when she wore her outfit…

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Error #5: Never assume that what is good for   
the goose is also good for the gander…

 

Chakotay could not believe his eyes. 

Though he should have known… 

There were nude, voluptuous females dancing on just about every flat, solid-based surface in Sandrine’s. The pool table alone had four naked women. He just knew that someone would tell the captain all about it. And would show her the holo-pictures.

He grabbed the culprit programmer and pulled him into the storage area behind the bar. He had to shove a few holodeck dancers who were entertaining some of the party’s guests, out of the way.

“Tom! I wanted a tasteful bachelor’s party!” Chakotay hissed.

“No. I clearly remember you saying that it was Kathryn’s parties that had to be tasteful. You said nothing about having something ‘tasteful’ for yourself!” Tom didn’t even have the good graces to even look slightly penitent over Chakotay’s displeasure. “Relax. Kathryn won’t find out about this…” There was a certain look in Chakotay’s eyes. Tom correctly interpreted it. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be the kind of husband that will tell his wife everything!”

“I prefer not to keep secrets from my wife-to-be. Besides, she’s the captain. She always knows everything…” Chakotay’s attention was captured by a particularly buxom woman shaking her assets too near to Harry Kim’s beet-red nose. Which, considering the color tone of Harry’s skin, was indicative of just how embarrassed Harry Kim was.

Chakotay also noticed that Harry did not move away though…

Tom shrugged. “What a perfectly good waste of my Risian programming.” With a louder voice Tom announced, “Computer, put sexy bikini bottoms on all the Risian dancers.” A moment later all the nude dancers - male and female - were wearing neon bikini bottoms. The bottom itself consisted of a miniscule amount of cloth. Chakotay doubted that there was a yard of fabric in cumulative use between all the dancers’ bathing suits. He did sigh in relief though. Now he could tell Kathryn that the entertainment had been wearing clothing. The amount of cloth actually used was an unimportant little detail…

A few of the revelers grumbled about the change though.

Neelix came over to them bearing tankards of foaming drinks. “A most interesting program, Mr. Paris. Very spicy. And you know how I like spicy.” He elbowed Tom in the ribs. “Did you create it yourself?”

“Not really. I brought it with me from New Zealand. Though I did tweak it up a bit for Chakotay’s wing ding.”

Chakotay took a hesitant sip of the foaming drink that Neelix had presented to him, was surprised by how light and fruity it tasted, and then comprehended that which Tom Paris had just said.

“You brought a Risa pleasure program with you from your Federation prison cell?”

“Contrary to popular opinion, I really did learn a few tricks from the Maquis, Chakotay.” Tom grinned like a Cheshire cat. “The New Zealand guards never noticed it. Believe me, back then that program saved my ass more than a few times…”

Not wishing to dwell on what that statement might mean, Chakotay took another sip of his drink. He decided that he really liked it. “This is very good Neelix. Thank you. What’s in it?”

“Well, I know that you like your hard cider, Commander, so I experimented a bit, added some fizz and a little leola root - and this is what I thought tasted best,” the Talaxian explained. For some reason, it completely escaped Neelix’s mind to mention that the added leola root was in its vodka form.

“It certainly is good,” Tom added as he finally took a drink as well. “Very smooth yet slightly piquant.” He took another sip. “You can’t taste the leola root at all.” It would take a few more tankards before he would figure out the form of the leola root secret ingredient.

“I added a few Ocampan spices that Kes gave me to grow, plus a couple of grams of crushed zaza leaf sweet syrup…”

As the Talaxian continued to describe what went into the drink, Tom was somewhat surprised - though he really shouldn’t have been - that Chakotay was actually interested in what the Talaxian was saying. Tom let his mind wander, wondering how Kathryn was liking his deep sea animation programming of a fish named Nemo getting married to a bearfish with a tattoo that resembled their resident Indian’s tattoo. He had it on very good authority that all Starfleet captains liked fish. And what harm could there be to updating a 20th century favorite film? It took more than a few minutes of mindless chattering before Tom became aware that the Talaxian was telling him something.

“I’m sorry, Neelix. I didn’t hear what you said. I was just, uh, enjoying my drink.”

“Oh, I was just saying that I had to tweak our fearless captain’s bridal shower programming a little bit,” Neelix explained.

Tom wasn’t in the mood to get upset over this. “You tweaked finding then marrying Nemo?”

“Yes. You only put in the marriage part. You forgot to commemorate the blessed event part. So I added it.”

Tom shrugged. His casual acceptance of this statement would be a mistake that Kathryn Janeway would make sure that he would regret making for many years to come… Tom had yet to discover how truly elephantine a memory his captain possessed.

“More drinks, anyone?” Harry suggested, as he tried to ignore the topless dancer still clinging to his arm.

Chakotay thought it to be a good idea at the time. He was really beginning to like Neelix’s new drink. “What do you call it?” he just had to ask the Talaxian.

 

“Why, ‘The Captain and the Commander’, of course.”


	2. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, they finally get married...

.

 

NEVER LET A TALAXIAN   
PLAN YOUR WEDDING

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Chapter 2: 

Error #6: Not preventing the Captain from  
crashing a bachelor party…

 

Lieutenant Commander Tuvok stared at the man who was passed out on top of Sandrine’s pool table. He was the last of the party attendees who required detoxification. He quickly scanned the bachelor party survivor, and determined the man’s blood alcohol level. Surprisingly, it wasn’t quite as high as the Vulcan had been expecting, so he adjusted the dosage in a hypospray and shot the hangover cure into the neck of the snockered commander.

“Kathryn?” the marinated man murmured.

“Not quite,” Tuvok patiently responded.

 

Chakotay pried open an eyelid and looked straight over at a face that sometimes visited his nightmares. “You’re not Kathryn.”

“Observant of you, Commander.” Tuvok raised an eyebrow as he watched the first officer of Voyager attempt to sit up. He did not quite succeed. He fell backwards, and it was only the Vulcan’s quick reflexes that prevented Chakotay from cracking his head against the billiard ball triangle. Tuvok then pulled the commander into an upright position.

Chakotay shrugged. And then deeply regretted this movement. Everything hurt - even his eyelashes. “Who slugged me?” he mumbled.

“I was not aware that a fight occurred last night along with the other traditional bachelor party festivities.”

“Fight?” A memory came back of him grabbing his betrothed’s arms, as he was attempting to keep Kathryn from murdering Neelix. “There was a fight, wasn’t there?”

Tuvok did not quite know how to answer this question for he had taken both the gamma and alpha bridge shifts in order to let everyone else get ready for the wedding. And no one had reported a fight to him.

Chakotay vaguely remembered Kathryn wildly thrashing and kicking. Slightly affronted, and still not quite sure as to the reasons as to why she was trying to punch Tom Paris and Neelix, Chakotay remembered something of considerable importance. 

“Kathryn slugged me!”

“Considering everything, that was to be expected.”

Chakotay’s eyes widened at this statement. He attempted to focus.

Tuvok continued. “I presume the captain was expressing her opinion of the choice of decor for her baby shower at the time of her hitting - presuming that Mr. Neelix was within striking distance. Unfortunately, you must have been in the way of her attack.” He raised an eyebrow. “Engaging in fisticuffs is not an activity that Captain Janeway, in her delicate condition, should be doing.”

“You tell the captain that. I don’t want to end up wearing shackles to my wedding.” Suddenly Chakotay remembered a certain night when Kathryn actually had used shackles on him and its pleasurable ending... He couldn’t have stopped his knowing grin if he had tried. And he didn’t even try... 

Tuvok duly noted the look on the commander’s face. But he chose not to delve suspecting that whatever the reason was behind the commander’s not-quite enigmatic expression; it would somehow involve what Captain Janeway did behind closed doors. And Tuvok always respected the captain’s privacy whenever he could.

Then Chakotay took a deep breath trying to center himself. “I remember Tom ducking under the bar. He was even yelling something about how could a pretty blue fish instigate such a violent response…”

“Did Kathryn catch up with Lieutenant Paris?”

“I think so. I’m not sure.” Chakotay rubbed the tensing muscles of his neck. “I remember Tom screaming as Kathryn was flailing. Though I’m not sure she physically hit him…” Chakotay closed his eyes as he felt the alcohol antidote flow through his veins. Relief was within reach.

“About Lieutenant Paris?” Tuvok prodded.

Chakotay continued. “Tom was yelling something about how he’d programmed cute fish and not…” Chakotay suddenly opened up both eyelids in unison. He stared at Tuvok with a decidedly perplexed look on his face. “This can’t be right…”

“What, Commander?”

“I could swear I heard Kathryn yelling something about spermatozoa…”

“Your memory is accurate, Commander.” 

Chakotay rested his eyes for a few moments as he tried to assemble the bits and pieces from his alcoholic haze into something that resembled the chronology of events of what had happened at his bachelor party. And what spermatozoa (not to mention 99% naked bar girls) had to do with it…

“Mr. Tuvok, could you please explain to me why Kathryn crashed my bachelor party? What could have infuriated her so much that she would do this?”

“I do not believe that it was the movie of an eagle-tattooed spermatozoa inseminating her womb in holographic, full-color detail that was the cause of her rampage. That incident occurred at the beginning of the bridal and baby shower. If she had wanted to kill Mr. Neelix then, she would have done so. Fortunately, I was told that Lieutenant Torres showed some good sense and managed to calm the captain down enough so that Kathryn and her guests were able to enjoy their dinner.”

Chakotay tried to wrap his mind around what Lieutenant Commander Tuvok was describing. And he simply could not do it.

“What did you say, Commander Tuvok?”

“If Lieutenant Wildman is correct, it was the nature of several of the bridal and baby shower games after dinner, that were the coup de grâce. I believe the lieutenant also mentioned spermatozoa shaped party favors too.”

“Huh?”

“I was informed that it was the miniature eagle tattoo on the forehead of each sperm image that sent Captain Janeway over the edge and caused her to lose her legendary control.”

“Sperm-a… what?”

“According to what Lieutenant Torres reported, fertility images and inseminations at baby showers are a common Talaxian custom. Thus images of spermatozoa became the somewhat dominant shower theme, especially when it came to napkins, party favors, centerpieces and baby games. I was also informed that the holographic waiters were in the form of giant spermatozoa as well. Neelix apparently felt that they were not complete without copies of your facial tattoo on their foreheads. Captain Janeway apparently objected to such images.”

Almost afraid to ask, Chakotay still felt compelled to express the first thought that crossed over his mind. “How could a sperm form waiter serve drinks?”

“It would be logical to assume that they used their tails to carry the trays.”

Chakotay groaned aloud as mental images of that danced in front of his eyeballs. He groaned some more as he deduced what had really upset his fiancée. “All Kathryn wanted was something ‘simple’ and ‘tasteful’. That’s what I told Tom… I ordered Tom…” Chakotay shook his head, instantly regretting it as the hangover headache pounding threatened to return as the result of this movement.

“Commander, was it not illogical of you to assume that if you used the words ‘simple’ and ‘tasteful’ in a sentence when instructing Mr. Paris as to how to plan the parties, that ‘simple’ and ‘tasteful’ is actually what you would get?”

The simple truth of this statement gobsmacked Chakotay in the head. “You’re right.” Chakotay raised his woeful eyes and almost pleaded with Mr. Tuvok. “Will you keep Kathryn from maiming me, Mr. Tuvok?” He closed his eyes in fearsome remembrance. “She was aiming for vital parts last night.”

“You have already sired one child, Commander.”

Chakotay looked up and thought he saw something that looked like glee quickly pass over Tuvok’s face. But he knew he had to be wrong about that. Surely the Vulcan was not enjoying his predicament…

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Captain Janeway might consider that one child is enough when she is in the process of trying to maim you.” The Vulcan almost smiled as he saw Chakotay blanch as he considered what his fiancée might be inclined to do to him now. “I will however, endeavor to do my best, Commander, to prevent you from permanent bodily harm.” He paused for a moment before Tuvok added, “However knowing Captain Janeway too well, I feel that the captain will be inclined to do what a captain has to do…”

Chakotay failed to notice that Mr. Tuvok did not specify what she would endeavor to do.

Chakotay knew he was doomed. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Tuvok.”

“Commander, I would suggest that if you wish to not antagonize your bride-to-be some more in order to make it to your wedding on time, that you should return to your quarters immediately, clean up and get dressed.”

Chakotay slid off of the pool table and rested his weight on his legs which then promptly buckled. If it were not again, for Tuvok’s quick reflexes in catching him, Chakotay would have ended up face forward on the bar room floor.

Tuvok bopped his comm badge. “Computer, direct site transport. Two to Commander Chakotay’s quarters.”

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Error #7: Inviting Q for anything, much less a drink…

 

Lieutenant Commander Tuvok surveyed the crowd in Holodeck 2. Everyone who could finagle their way off duty was now packed into the rows of seats as they waited for their captain to waddle as gracefully as possible, down the aisle. For those who had to be on duty, Tom Paris had made sure that monitors stationed in every department were broadcasting the wedding.

Tuvok noted that Commander Chakotay was standing reasonably straight and upright, even if he did sway a little bit in the wind from vented breezes now and then. The pole-axed look that had been his dominant expression after he had awakened this morning after finding himself on top of the pool table, was now absent. Cleaned up, dressed in a natural linen tunic and slacks, and wearing his symbolic medicine bag around his neck, the commander seemed alert enough to satisfy the ‘sound mind’ requirement of a valid marriage ceremony.

Tuvok was not so sure about his captain, though. Various reports had been crossing over his padd describing her previous night’s activities. Some of them detailed her behavior in a manner that could only be described as ‘atypical’ for the captain. The Kathryn Janeway that Tuvok knew so well would ordinarily never have done such things. He surmised that it was the pregnancy hormones that might have driven his commanding officer ‘slightly’ manic. He was reasonably sure that Kathryn Janeway would show up for her own wedding. Though what she would do to her long list of miscreants after the wedding was over was another matter entirely. Considering the probable names at the top of that list, Tuvok decided that the list was of little concern to him. Unless he had to clean up the blood…

Tuvok glanced down at his dress uniform, determined that no speck of dust had the temerity to stick to the fabric, and then decided that he was ready. Stepping up onto the dais, he searched for Neelix, caught his eye and then slightly nodded.

Neelix stuck his head out the holodeck doors and pulled it back in just as quickly as if he were afraid that someone or something might be thrown at him. Then he relaxed, nodding his head quite enthusiastically in Lieutenant Commander Tuvok’s direction.

A somewhat pasty-faced Thomas Paris walked over to Chakotay, stood next to him in the best man position, and faced the crowd with a confident-looking smile plastered on his face. “At last! It’s finally time, folks!”

Immediately the crowd quieted down, turned and faced the center aisle in anticipation.

Tuvok waited until Chakotay had moved to face the doorway, and then nodded over to Harry Kim. Harry began playing a solo clarinet composition; a piece he had written in a Phrygian modality that incorporated several of the melodies of Chakotay’s tribal folk songs.

Naomi entered through the open doors, sprinkling the petals from peace roses onto the ivory runner that led up to the dais.

Samantha Wildman followed, wearing a simple Empire waist, flowing soft peach colored gown. She was followed by B’Elanna wearing a similar sleeveless dress in pale yellow. Then came 7 of 9 as the maid of honor, wearing a pale celadon comparably styled dress. 

And then, after the maid and matrons of honor had processed, Kathryn Janeway stood in the doorway, surveying the crowd before directing her focus on to her fiancée as if to make sure that he was actually there. She then glanced over at a preening, beaming EMH. Somehow, she had found herself agreeing that the doctor could escort her down the aisle after he had asked. For the EMH had assumed that such a service was needed, not realizing that only Kathryn Janeway could ‘give’ herself away. But she couldn’t say ‘no’ to the EMH. Not when the EMH so clearly wanted some role to play in the wedding party. So here she was with the EMH clinging to her arm, about to get married to the man that she loved in spite of the fact that she was still furious with him.

Kathryn’s wedding gown was similar in style to the dresses that her bridesmaids were wearing. Her gown color was a soft cream shading into an ombre pink at the hem of the long dress. A fine Irish lace veil trailed down her back. It was long enough to touch the train of her dress. The lace was attached by a comb to her upswept hairdo. She was, of course, carrying a bouquet of peace roses. 

Kathryn took several steps into the holodeck, before she paused and stared at Chakotay, capturing his gaze again. For a moment, it was as if time were frozen. The only thing that mattered was the love that they shared. The two lovers just gazed at each other, almost as if in disbelief that this momentous event of their lives was finally about to happen.

And then Kathryn smiled at her beloved. The warmth of her expression stoked a fire in Chakotay’s soul that would never be extinguished. And with suddenly confident steps, she processed down the aisle toward the man she loved with every fiber of her being. When she reached his side, she held his trembling hand, said the life-altering words when it came time, duly noted that Chakotay was much more nervous than she was as he stumbled over some of his words, and then she joyously chose her future - their future.

They kissed. And for once Kathryn was not worried about protocol. As the minutes passed as they were in a passionate embrace, the crowds - led by Tom, naturally - began to hoot and holler. No one - other than Tom - would have placed a bet as to the length of the newly-married couple’s first kiss.

Not that he revealed it, but a somewhat relieved acting-Captain Tuvok happily said the words that united them in matrimony. (Starfleet protocol be damned!) For she was his best friend who was in love with her first officer. This marriage was necessary. And it was time.

“Nooooooo!!!” came a voice, screaming from above. “Stop the wedding!” Q floated down into the holodeck, wearing a royal purple cape trimmed in ermine. “I forbid this marriage!”

Q was disrupting Kathryn’s wedding. And she did not care for this one little bit.

The expression on her face was fatal. “Don’t try me, Q! I am not in the mood!” Kathryn commanded. She took a second to compose herself before she continued speaking. “What do you want, Q?” The death glare that she gave him, actually did frighten Q for a moment though he squelched his reaction as best he could.

“Kathy! How could you betray me by marrying Chuckles when you could have had me?”

She snorted. “You already have a wife, Q, as I recall.”

“Details. Details, Kathy… Besides, I never said that the Q were inclined to be monogamous.”

She stomped her foot. “Either join us in a drink for the celebration of my marriage to the man I love, or go home, Q!”

“I don’t suppose I can persuade you to change your mind?” Q wheedled. If anything, the captain’s death glare became more intense. “I suppose not. You’re more stubborn than most of the Q - and that is really saying something about just how stubborn you really are, my dearest Kathy.” Q’s overly-dramatic sigh was laden with disappointment. He shrugged. “Ah well… Better Chuckles than me.” With a click of his fingers, he disappeared. But his voice echoed about the holodeck as he left, saying, “Chuckles, I brought you a wedding present… You’ll need it.”

Kathryn blinked, pondered Q’s last words and then whispered to Chakotay, “Maybe we had better open that present behind a suppressive force field.”

“And in private,” Chakotay added, since he suspected that whatever the present was, the odds were that it could be an embarrassment to either Kathryn or to himself.

“I will make the arrangements,” Tuvok added, even as he mentally made a little list of everything that would be required to safely open up a Q’s wedding present.

A disembodied voice suddenly asked, “Kathy, did you just invite me to your wedding?”

“My mistake!” she grumbled.

“I accept!”

During his long association with Kathryn Janeway, Commander Tuvok had rarely second-guessed his captain’s decisions. But inviting Q to the wedding party? What was she thinking?

Tuvok stepped off of the dais, shook Commander Chakotay’s hand in congratulations, and then shocked every person on board when he reached over and hugged Kathryn Janeway, and then kissed her cheek.

For a second, Chakotay considered the possibility that he was hallucinating as he watched Tuvok embrace his bride. Certainly the dazed look on his wife’s face supported the idea that Kathryn Janeway might be confused too.

Kathryn stepped away from her Vulcan, pinched herself and then moved back into her husband’s waiting arms. Then she uttered her first words as an official married lady.

“Bring me Mr. Neelix.”

Even Chakotay shuddered when he heard those words, for by now, he’d reached a hazy idea as to exactly what it was that Mr. Neelix had done.

Chakotay never thought that the first words he’d ever say to his bride, after I love you, would be, “Please don’t space Neelix.”

A concerned Kathryn gazed into her husband’s beautiful brown eyes, sensuously rubbed her thumb down his jaw line and across his lips, and then whispered, “Don’t be silly, my love. I’m not going to kill Mr. Neelix. I’m just going to put the fear of Captain Janeway in him - only a little bit.”

Hiding his trepidation, a worried Neelix stepped up to the newly-married couple, and faced his captain. He was wearing a bright red, orange and gold suit, and he hoped that he looked as resplendent as he could, given that he was seriously considering the possibility of Captain Janeway kicking him off of Voyager.

Kathryn noted Neelix’s immobile upper lip and slightly trembling hand even as he extended it toward herself.

“Captain. Commander. Conconcon…gratulations,” he stated as cheerily as he could, given the circumstances, grabbing both of their hands to energetically shake them.

Staving off Mr. Neelix’s intention of chattering mindlessly, Kathryn Janeway forcefully stated, “Mis-tah Nee-lix.” She over-enunciated every syllable.

Neelix stopped shaking their hands, and dropped them. Standing at attention, he waited on his captain’s displeasure.

Suddenly the room was silent, as all anticipated what Kathryn Janeway would do next. More than a few crewmembers sent a sympathetic look in Mr. Neelix’s direction.

“Yes, Captain?” Neelix forced himself to brightly respond.

“You designed and arranged my bridal and baby shower party?”

“Uh, yes, Captain Janeway.”

“You also arranged Chakotay’s bachelor party?”

“I did that mainly,” Tom piped up, in the hope that Captain Janeway wouldn’t blame everything on his friend. He was blameworthy as well.

“Considering the nude dancing girls, I suspected as much,” Captain Janeway sternly replied. She glared at Lieutenant Paris. “You’re culpability was never in doubt. I will deal with you later.” Once more she stared at Mr. Neelix, as if she were dissecting each and every one of his molecules without benefit of anesthesia.

“Captain, is there a problem?” Neelix hesitantly asked since rumor had it that she might have been really, really furious with him last night.

She mightily sighed. “Yes, there is, Mr. Neelix.” She sighed again.

“How can I help?” the Talaxian bravely asked.

For a second, she sent him her best death glare. It worked. Neelix was visibly trembling, and looking very apologetic.

“I’m sorry…” he started to say.

She stopped him with a wave of her hand, then paused for a moment before she smiled, quite directly, at him. It was the most beautiful smile that the Talaxian ever had ever received from Captain Janeway. He started breathing again as she spoke. “No, Mr. Neelix. Don’t be sorry. I am at fault. My problem, Mr. Neelix, is that I have failed to thank you for all of the work that you have done on my behalf.” She gestured toward Chakotay. “Our behalf.” She clasped Chakotay’s hand. “I know I may not have shown it during the past twenty-four hours…,” the captain waited but a moment for a little more torment before she continued. “…but I am truly grateful.” 

Chakotay choked, realized that he now had the rest of his life to figure out his love and, and then raised their joined hands. “We are grateful,” Chakotay sincerely added.

“Thank you for giving us what is without a doubt, two of the most notorious bachelor and bachelorette parties a Janeway has ever attended.” Her smile broadened. “In fact, my shower might well be the most memorable event ever held in the Delta Quadrant. And maybe even in the Alpha Quadrant.” She grinned.

Now that his fears were suddenly quashed, Neelix’s exuberance surfaced with a bang. “Wait until you see what I’ve cooked up for your wedding banquet!”

She placed her hand upon Neelix’s arm. “Mr. Neelix, I will always treasure your originality and your generosity of spirit.” She reached up and hugged him. “Don’t ever change, my dear friend.” And with that statement, she pressed her lips against the Talaxian’s cheek.

Considering her behavior from yesterday, Kathryn Janeway understood why Neelix had been fearful. So there was one more command that she had to make. “After dinner, Mr. Neelix, and after of course, my first dance with my husband, I expect you to do your duty as a member of the wedding party and dance with me. Something slow, though. I’m not quite able to dance any Talaxian gigues or Irish reels at the moment. You’ll have to give me a few months before I can do any of those dances again.”

“I look forward to dancing them with you in the near future, then.” He brazenly patted Captain Janeway’s tummy. (Which was another thing that no one but Chakotay or the EMH had been permitted to do. Anyone else who might have tried it could have expected to lose a few finger phalanges.) “But you’ve got a good excuse - this time.” He rubbed her tummy some more.

All the captain could do was laugh - joyously, excitedly and happily, before her husband pulled her back into his arms. Chakotay just had to give her one more heart-pounding kiss. And now it was time to go to the wedding banquet in the mess hall followed by dancing in Holodeck 1.

Hours later, as Chakotay held Kathryn as close as physically possible, dancing to some sort of very romantic tune, he whispered, “Why did Lieutenant Commander Tuvok pelt me with greasy popcorn as we left the holodeck - and not you?”

Kathryn chuckled before she added, “Tuvok got Harry and Tom too.”

“Okay. But that still doesn’t explain why…”

Kathryn knew the answer to her husband’s question. For she had caught the twinkle in Tuvok’s eye as he specifically targeted all three men as they walked down the corridors to the mess hall. They had been on the Vulcan’s ‘hit’ list ever since Tom Paris’ movie night where the three slightly drunken bridge officer had been pelting Mr. Tuvok with popcorn. But she wasn’t about to give up the answer just yet. She’d let Chakotay figure it out for himself.

Kathryn had to tell her new husband something. “Let’s just say that Tuvok was honoring an ancient Vulcan custom.”

Chakotay thought about it for a minute. “I think that’s one I am going to have to look up.”

Kathryn reached up and kissed his lips with a surprising passion considering that they were still in public. Then she whispered, “Don’t you think that it’s time for us to leave?”

“Soon,” he promised. Then Chakotay shook his head. “Kathryn, I didn’t hear you tell Mr. Neelix to stop, earlier.”

“Stop what?”

“Wedding traditions. Either Talaxian or Irish.”

She stopped moving as the horror dawned. “Oh no, he wouldn’t…”

Chakotay just rolled his eyes.

Kathryn guessed, “Was it Tom who told Neelix about the shivaree?”

But before Chakotay could confess, an annoying voice was heard singing, “When I’m calling You...ooh-ooh-ooh… ooh-ooh-ooooh…”

Kathryn looked up at the ceiling. Q was stuck to it, still clutching the bottle of Jameson’s pot still whiskey that he had almost finished off, singlehandedly. “Shut up, Q!” she ordered.

“But I’m not finished serenading you!” Q protested.

The captain of Voyager took a deep breath, plastered a friendly smile on her face, and then more politely requested, “Please, Q. Come down.”

Since Kathy had said ‘please’, Q decided to oblige her. “Yes, my sweet, not-so-little Setrellian kumquat.”

Surprising both Q and her husband, she ignored the endearment, and walked over to the member of the Continuum before stating, “It’s our turn to dance, Q.” She glanced over at Harry and his little band. “Mr. Kim, another slow dance if you please?” She held out her arms.

Q knew a cue when he saw it. And he carefully swept Kathy around the dance floor as Mr. Kim began to play ‘Charade’.

“My, your little one is certainly active tonight,” he observed as they waltzed.

“You’re holding me too close if you can feel my son moving about,” she tartly observed.

Q moved away from her by about a centimeter.

Kathryn decided that this was probably the best that a conceding Q could do.

“Q, I have to say something to you.”

“What, my beloved Kathy?”

She tried not to glare at him though it was an instinctive response to his words. “Thank you.”

“You liked my wedding present?”

She nodded her head. “I took a little sip before the EMH grabbed the glass out of my hand.” She sighed. “I just hope that there are a few bottles left after this reception is over. Once the EMH lets me drink alcohol again, I really would like to taste some of your Jameson’s whiskey. I didn’t bring a bottle with me like I normally do, when I went on my mission to catch Chakotay.” She sighed again. “I thought that I was only going to be gone a few weeks. And that I wouldn’t need it…”

“Well, you were really wrong about that one, weren’t you, Kathy?” Q teased.

“True.”

Q glanced down at her abdomen. “And from here, I would say that the Maquis caught you and not the other way around.”

“Thank God.” She suddenly grinned. “Or you could argue that I gave Chakotay a life sentence instead.”

For a second, some emotion gleamed in Q’s eyes. Then he nodded as if accepting something. “You really love Chuckles, don’t you, Kathy?”

“Oh, yes I do, Q.”

He was silent for a moment. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to settle for being your son’s godfather since I can’t have you.”

“Q, you have to mean that. Just as I’ll always be there for your Junior, you’ll have to be there for my son.”

“When it comes to our children, my dear Kathy, I don’t Q around. And thank-Q. I would love to be this little one’s godfather.” He leaned close to her and whispered, “By the way, I put cases of the 19th century pot still Black Bush and Jamesons’ whiskey in your quarters. But save a few bottles. You might find them useful as bribes when you get back home to the Alpha Quadrant in case an admiral wants to make your life more difficult.”

“We are getting home?” For now, she ignored Q’s intimation of trouble in the Alpha Quadrant when they got home.

“With you as captain, how could there be any other outcome?”

“Could you at least tell me when?”

“I can’t interfere and reveal that, Kathy. You know that. But I will tell you that someday that your redoubtable Gretchen will be able to play with all her grandchildren.”

It would take Kathryn a few days before she’d figure out that Q might possibly know her mother… Of course, before she’d known this, she would have to cope with quite a few other distractions.

Then Q said something that caused Kathryn Janeway to dash into her ‘escape’ mode. 

All Q asked was, “What’s a shivaree? It sounds like fun…”


	3. Shivaree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peace and quiet will eventually be achieved by Kathryn and Chakotay.

.

 

NEVER LET A TALAXIAN   
PLAN YOUR WEDDING

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Chapter 3 

Error #8: Forgiving the miscreants too soon. 

 

So Kathryn Janeway the bride, sat in her ready room. She was idly wondering when the crowd of inebriated Voyagers would figure out how she was avoiding them.

She also supposed that she could ask the computer about the location of her husband. But, damn it, he should be looking for her! Not the other way around.

For just a moment, she closed her eyes even as she agitatedly moved about, trying to find a comfortable position somewhere on the seat to her desk chair.

Suddenly strong yet gentle fingers were massaging the small of her back, skillfully manipulating muscles that had been aching on and off during her long day. For a moment, Kathryn permitted the pain-easing massage. Then she realized that the fingers did not belong to her husband. She opened her eyes. And she started to pull away from the gentle manipulation of her muscles.

“Oh, be still, Kathy!” Q ordered. “I’m just trying to help you. Maybe if you feel better, you’ll join in the shivaree.”

Q couldn’t interpret the look that the captain of Voyager sent his way. He knew it wasn’t good.

When she recognized that he was ignoring her displeasure, Kathryn commented with just a touch of annoyance, “Even if I felt fantastic, I still would not be participating in the shivaree.”

“Why?”

Q’s simple question surprised her. She held her tongue for a moment as she thought about her answer. She finally found one, though it was a slightly weak explanation. “It’s undignified.”

Q chortled. “Kathryn Janeway stripped to her skivvies, blasting away at giant amoebae is undignified - but you still did it anyway, Kathy.”

“I wasn’t stripped to my skivvies! Just down to my tee shirt!” she retorted. She thought a bit more. Q did have a point, Kathryn had to mentally concede. “It was necessary,” she finally countered.

“So was marrying Chuckles,” he replied, pointedly looking at her very pregnant belly.

She bristled.

But before she could say anything more, Q clicked his fingers. Suddenly Chakotay appeared right next to Kathryn still wearing his linen wedding outfit. 

Chakotay took in the situation even though he was somewhat slightly drunk from the champagne that he had imbibed at their wedding reception. So he was not that upset by Q’s presence. Considering how the past twenty-four hours had gone, Q being present somehow seemed to be the norm for his wedding day. Anyway, after ascertaining that his bride was just fine, Kathryn’s first officer noticed how Q was just innocently lounging around which meant that Q was up to some sort of mischief. What Q said next just confirmed his suspicions even as Chakotay stepped into a protective stance by his bride’s side. 

Q noticed all this posturing but ignored it. “Now, Kathy, show me how a shivaree should end.”

Chakotay decided to demonstrate his response - just in case Kathryn refused to cooperate. He pulled his wife into his arms, and gave her as passionate a kiss as he could muster, and as the gods would allow - considering the circumstances.

Deciding to begin her marriage with the way that she wished it to go, Kathryn Janeway chose to fulfill her husband’s wishes and complied as best she could, considering her girth prevented her from getting as close to her lover as she would have liked to have gotten. Kathryn kissed Chakotay back with a great passion too.

Q waited patiently until the newly-married couple came up for air. “Oh, puh-leeze!” snorted Q. Then he clicked his fingers again.

Chakotay froze, paralyzed in mid-passionate-embrace.

Kathryn was not a happy bride. “Q, release him!” Kathryn ordered as she carefully stepped out of her husband’s arms in order to not tip him over. She had a brief flashback to her childhood days when cow tipping had been the teenage rage in Indiana. She shuddered if Q ever caught wind of such an activity. She pursed her lips when she observed that Q was not complying. “I said release him!” she repeated. She squarely faced her nemesis. For she had liked kissing her husband in spite of Q’s irritating presence. “Now! I mean it…”

“In a moment.” He waved his hand in the air, and suddenly soft music could be heard.

Kathryn paused from her ranting and listened for a moment. “What Is This Thing Called Love?” she queried. She was even willing to admit to being a little bit confused by Q’s actions. Not that this was anything new when it came to Q’s presence in her life.

“Cole Porter. One of my favorite human composers. He did know how to write a love song. I’ve learned a great deal about that human condition from him…”

“That explains it,” Kathryn almost mumbled to herself.

“Tish tosh, Kathy. Quit your captainly complaining, and come dance with me. You owe me another wedding dance since you skipped out of your own wedding reception right after you and Chuckles here cut the cake, and before we could have a dance again.”

“Chased out is a bit more like it.” She eyed her personal imp, focused her steely-eyed gaze upon him and accused, “And you were encouraging them!”

“Of course I was, mon petit chou-chou! Inebriating beverages, loud music, ribald song, sexy dancing, bawdy revelry and clanging cow bells! I never knew what a cow bell was before today. And I most definitely will add a few cow bells to my repertoire. Anyway… if I didn’t encourage it, I wouldn’t be a Q, now would I?”

“That’s not the way I wanted my wedding to be!” She harrumphed.

“Then you should have stayed in the Alpha Quadrant! I wouldn’t have noticed you there. I’d have played with Jean-Luc instead!”

Inexplicably, his words hurt her, not that she would admit to such a thing out loud.

But she must have revealed something of her hurt feelings in her expression. And he noticed it. Though he may have been a member of the Continuum, he was not completely insensitive every day, all millennium day long. He had unwittingly hurt Kathy. His voice softened - in fact it was almost apologetic - as he explained, “I wouldn’t have tormented you in the Alpha Quadrant, Kathy. I would have just worshipped you from afar.” He took a quick breath and then also admitted, “And protected you and yours, too.”

“Why?” She was shaken by his admission.

“Jean-Luc likes you. And I have found that anyone Jean-Luc esteems, to be worthy of my attention.” He sent her what was for him, a shy grin. “And once I got to know you, I understood why the picky Picard holds you in such high regard.” His grin blossomed. “Of course, the first time I saw you nekkid…” He wriggled his eyebrows. “…I came up with reasons of my own to like you.”

He flinched, waiting to be swatted. Or harangued. Instead, Kathryn Janeway surprised him. She laughed. Heartily.

It was a very pleasing sound to Q’s ears.

“Oh, Q. You do know how to lift a very pregnant lady’s spirits. Thank you.” She put her hands on her hips and commanded, “Now, unfreeze my husband!”

Q observed that Kathy’s eyes were beginning to tear up. Since he never cared to deal with feminine waterworks, even when it was Kathy’s, he answered her. “I will. But first…” He walked over to her, held out his arms and simply asked, “…shall we dance?”

She nodded, even as she tried to repress her tears. She moved into his arms. And she even let him lead. She was even impressed that his arms held her at a decorous, proper position away from his body, even as she mentally admitted being surprised as to how good Q could do the box step. They moved about her ready room for a few minutes, in time with the music even as Chakotay seemingly was forgotten.

“Uh-oh,” Q muttered. He stiffened and stopped moving. He could see the question forming in Kathryn’s pretty blue eyes. So Q supplied the answer. “Your wedding revelers are getting closer.”

She closed her eyes, and wearily leaned her forehead against Q’s broad, tuxedo clad shoulders. “I really can’t deal with them, right now…”

“I’ll take care of them,” Q whispered. He gently stroked her cheek with his forefinger. “Have the life you deserve, my sweet Kathy.” With those words he lifted up her head by tucking his forefinger under her chin, kissed her brow, stepped back away from her, inspected her for a long moment as if he was memorializing the way she looked at this specific moment in time, and then he snapped his fingers.

A second later she found herself standing in the center of her quarters with Chakotay flopping onto her couch behind her.

“They won’t find you until tomorrow,” a bodiless voice echoed around her quarters.

“Thank you, Q.” She was actually touched by Q’s concern.

“I never thought I’d say that. Ever.” Chakotay took a big breath before he mumbled, “Thank you, Q.” Chakotay stiffly pulled himself into an upright position still somewhat surprised that he had actually said what he’d said. “I may not have been able to move, but I could hear,” he explained to his wife.

She turned as swiftly as she could given her bulk, and held out her open arms to her bridegroom.

He rushed into them. “Oh, Kathryn. Please forgive me,” Chakotay implored, though his eyes held a distinctive twinkle. He felt compelled to smother her with his kisses.

“For what?” She brushed her fingers against his tattoo, starting to trace the outline of the wing, though she was not actually attempting to dissuade him from kissing her with the touch of her palm against his face.

He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. “For the way everything turned out.”

She could see that he didn’t understand. “Oh, Chakotay. Don’t you know?” She chuckled. “The Borg didn’t attack. The Kazon didn’t kill anybody. There weren’t any giant viruses taking over the ship. And nobody was firing on us because we were crossing their territory without permission.”

“I don’t…”

She kissed him to hush him up. “Chakotay, don’t you know? It was the perfect wedding for me - for us.”

“How so?”

“You were there.” She smiled at him revealing the true depth of her love. “And we managed to get through the entire ceremony without a single, solitary photon torpedo being fired.” She patted his chest. “Considering our track record that was a indeed a piece of miraculous good fortune.”

His laughter was full of warmth. And love. “That is most certainly true, Kathryn.” He observed a twinkle in Kathryn’s eye, and correctly deduced is source. “And then, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tom so terrified before - especially after he realized how Neelix had changed his fish scenario. Your fury was a sight to behold.”

“I know.” Kathryn’s grin was positively evil.

He took a step back, and admitted to himself that he was glad that the revenge-seeking side to Kathryn Janeway’s nature had never been focused directly toward him. She lovingly smiled at him. And he was distracted again. Eventually he found himself admiring how his bride looked in her wedding dress although he did have to admit it had a few smudges here and there, on the fabric. He didn’t really care though. He just thought that the mother of his child simply was the most beautiful woman in his universe. And thus would he forever see her in his mind’s eye for the rest of his life.

Kathryn found herself missing her husband’s embrace. She took a step forward, and sternly ordered, “Kiss me, Chakotay.”

“You know me, ever the proper first officer. I’ll always readily follow your commands, Kathy,” he joshed.

“I prefer my improper first officer, to tell the truth,” she teased back.

Without even grunting, he swept her up into his arms, and carried her into their bedroom. “So do I.” Kathryn’s new groom who was most definitely her first officer in all things happily admitted, as he gently lowered her down onto the bedspread. He placed nipping kisses along the slope of her enticing neck as he joined her. 

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Error #9A: Or, “what do we do with a drunken Q…”

 

Meanwhile on a different deck, Tom finally admitted to himself that he had had enough of chasing after the bride and groom. The cowbell clanging was giving him a headache. And he really wanted to hit someone with his frying pan. He suspected that all the liquid sustenance that he had been sipping now and again, had something to do with his headache too. And he had a sneaking suspicion that quite a few of the other members of the shivaree party were getting headaches as well. The number of people who had joined him originally had dropped considerably during the past two hours.

Vorik plopped down in the middle of the corridor by the doorway to the mess hall. He rested his eyes for two minutes precisely before he opened them and glanced at the padd that he pulled out from behind his back. “I have just received the 43rd complaint about the noise that we are making, Ensign Paris. Apparently the crew no longer considers our bell clanging to be in good fun.”

“You were keeping track?” Tom Paris just had to ask.

Vorik ignored him for he could never quite comprehend all the motives behind the frivolity of the bridge crew. They were a definite different breed apart from logical Starfleet officers.

Q stuck his head out of the mess hall doors and cheerfully announced, “Look what I’ve found!”

Neelix wearily uttered, “You haven’t been experimenting again in my mess hall, have you, Q? It took me two days to clean up after you the last time you were in my galley.”

“I could have cleaned it up with a swish of my hand,” Q countered.

“But you didn’t,” Neelix unenthusiastically sighed, deciding then and there that it was time for this Talaxian to try to crawl back to his quarters.

“Tish, tosh!” Q then ignored Neelix for he had something more fun in mind. Q juggled three bottles of whiskey in the air. “I’ve found a new case,” he proudly announced.

A few people noticed.

Tom looked at it, then back at Harry. Harry spoke first. “What the hell,” was all that Ensign Kim said. Surprising Tom (and Q), Harry walked up to the semi-omnipotent being and grabbed one of the bottles being juggled before he stomped into the mess hall. Q had to use a magic trick to keep the other two bottles of whiskey from smashing.

“We might as well,” Tom shrugged as he decided to join Harry and Q. Tom offered a hand to Vorik. Vorik took it and stood up.

Neelix considered the quality of the liquor that Q was offering, and then ever-so-innocently asked, “Irish whiskey is part of Captain Janeway’s heritage, isn’t it?” 

Tom put his arm around Neelix’s shoulders as he led the Talaxian into his mess hall. “Why I do believe it is, Mr. Neelix.”

“So if we pursue whiskey instead of Captain Janeway, it’s pretty close to the same thing, isn’t it?” Mr. Neelix rationally explained.

Tom paused, then spoke, his eyes lighting up with the idea. “I like the way you think, Mr. Neelix.”

Q raised his eyes in amazement over this Talaxian’s suggestion because up until now, he’d considered Mr. Neelix to be an invertebrate of some sort. “And so do I, Mr. Neelix.” Q paused for a moment before adding, “In fact, if I know my marriage traditions too well - and I do - this whiskey might be the very reason behind the throwing of a shivaree.” He glanced around the mess hall as he ushered in the final stragglers of the shivaree crowd. “Shall I compose an epithalamion to Kathy and Chuckles? It might only take my consuming of two or three bottles to write one.”

Since an ‘epithalamion’ was one of Tom’s personal definitions of the rings of hell, Tom hastily spoke. “Q, Irish whiskey and Greek epic odes don’t really go together too well.”

Since this wasn’t an epic ode kind of gathering, Q really wasn’t in the mood for composing marriage poetry to the woman that got away, so he suggested, “Well then, we can spend the rest of the night telling ‘Kathy’ stories. Have I ever told you all the details about my first encounter with Kathy? Before she knew I was in her quarters?”

Tom sat down with a thud on a chair by the nearest table holding on to two bottles of whiskey. “That’s a great idea, Q.” Tom looked around. “And there’s no Chakotay or Tuvok in sight. We can talk freely.” He grinned his naughtiest, placating grin. “But you can tell your story later, Q.” He opened up the closest bottle and poured a goodly measure into the first glass he could grab. “And since I don’t have Alpha or Beta shifts tomorrow, I will go first.” Tom crossed his legs at the ankles, and rested them on an open chair. He relaxed a bit. Then he spoke in his most sincere, outlandish, tall tale razzle-dazzle sounding tone of voice. “When I still lived with my father, Captain then Ensign Janeway came by one afternoon wearing the most incredible wrap-around red dress that I’d ever seen. She was also in heaps of trouble, which for a Janeway was unheard of…”

“Ooooohhh, something salacious, I hope,” Q gleefully interrupted as he made sure that everyone present had something directly in front of them to imbibe.

Tom glared at Q. “We’re talking about Kathryn Janeway, here, remember?”

“She knows the meaning of the word ‘salacious’, Tommy boy, considering her in-delicate condition,” Q countered.

Tom continued grinning as he considered Q’s words. “Well, maybe she does when she’s alone with Chakotay. But my father doesn’t know the meaning of the word. Trust me on that one.”

“Go on,” Harry urged lest Q started going down a road Harry didn’t really want traveled. He knew, like everyone on board the ship, that the captain and the commander had become lovers a while ago - probably when they were stranded together on that planet. Yet, Harry had preferred to believe the captain’s official version of events - that is until her pregnancy symptoms had started becoming a visible reality. He recalled a certain movie intermission when Captain Janeway had become nauseous, and figured that that was the time when her relationship with Chakotay had really changed.

“Oh, in that case your story is going to be so bo-ring,” Q announced, interrupting Tom again. “Let me tell you one of my more interesting Kathy stories…”

Mr. Kim’s ‘no’ was drowned out by the rest of the whiskey drinkers as they said ‘yes’.

“Once when I read Kathy’s mind….” Q began.

“You read Kathy’s mind?” Tom roared, as his anger (and the whiskey) fueled his continuing protectiveness for his captain.

“Oh, I read every beings’ mind when I get around to it,” Q countered. “When I can be bothered with puny little minds, that is.” He glared at Harry who had bristled as well. “And only when the minds are of significance and of importance to me.” He imperially waved his hand about, sloshing whiskey onto the table top. “Yours are not.” 

Tom didn’t know whether to be relieved, insulted, or accept Q’s words at face value.

Then Q morphed for himself an incredibly long Verdillian tongue, and licked up the spilled whiskey droplets from the top of the table before he returned back to his normal humanoid shape. “Waste not, want not,” Q advised all of this adage. “Anyway, getting back to Kathy…” Q’s smile was rather naughty as he continued. “The saintly then-engaged-to-someone-who-was-not-Chuckles, captain of the good ship Voyager fell in lust with that Maquis renegade Chakotay, the first time she saw him on her viewscreen in spite of her dire situation with the Caretaker and all of that Ocampan nonsense. And when Chakotay beamed onto her bridge for the very first time, my, my, her heart did a-flutter. Coup de foudre as Jean-Luc would say. Kathy’s hormones started bubbling over like a watched pot seasoned with love at first sight. And your saintly Captain Janeway had some decidedly impure thoughts on her own bridge, for heaven’s sake. It was something she’d never done before - that well-disciplined was our Kathy…” Q finished off his bottle before continuing. “Kathy sometimes remembers her Chakotay in his bad-boy leather Maquis outfit - and she always has this little lop-sided smile when she does. The memory of all that leather and where it was caressing does such things to her libido…”

Tom just knew he had to do something to stop Q. So he stood and waved his empty glass about, interrupting Q. “Let’s play a fine old Irish game I learned when I was a Starfleet cadet,” he loudly announced. “In honor of Kathryn Janeway and her ancestors.”

“Drinking games at the Academy?” Q mused. “I must visit when I get the chance. The place sounds far more lively than I had supposed it to be based on Jean-Luc’s dull stories.”

Tom ignored Q’s words, and instead focused his gaze on Q. “I dare all of you! I can drink all of you under the table!” he arrogantly announced challenging one and all. He continued to stare at Q as he added, “And Q…”

“Yes, my favorite Paris-ite?”

“You have to stay in your human, red blooded corporeal form. No becoming some being that has ethanol flowing through his veins, or whatever. This is going to be a fair drinking contest,” he gambled. “Do you agree?”

Q actually had to consider it before he assented. But since he’d had a millennia of experience with drinking rituals on many planets throughout the universe (though drinking some being under the whatever with their local hooch was pretty much a universal constant regardless of the name of the game or the planet on which this game was being played), Q assented. He drained another bottle of whiskey before he stood and announced, “I agree!”

Tom was surprised when he realized that Q was actually giving himself a handicap by drinking so much liquor before the actual game began. Tom was astonished to discover that this Q might have a sense of fair play.

“I’ll referee!” Harry chirped up since it was not in his nature to try and drink Tom Paris under the table. He’d attempted that only once. And he had learned from sad experience that he just simply couldn’t do it. Besides Harry knew that any ‘game’ in which Q participated, would always have a poor outcome for Harry. One didn’t have to be a professional prognosticator to predict that result.

Harry just had to ask, “What are you playing for?”

Tom eyed Harry then sagaciously observed, “Your mother never let you play ‘king of the hill’ did she, when you were a kid…”

Q interrupted. “Well, let’s just say that the loser has to clean up all the peripheral damage from the wedding.”

Everyone in the room groaned as they remembered the condition in which they’d left certain areas.

“And give everyone hangover shots without letting the EMH know,” Harry added, as he considered the various levels of inebriation that everyone else other than Q, was exhibiting.

Everyone in the room groaned again at the prospect of facing the doctor for hangover shots.

“I’ll deal with the Doc,” Tom stated, placating the group. Under his breath he added, “It’s not like hangovers are unexpected considering all of the celebrations. The Doc will have been anticipating it.”

“A onesie,  
a twosie,   
it’s time to drink the boozey!”  
Q caterwauled as he picked up another bottle from his inexhaustible supply of Tullamore Dew pot still whiskey in a very old wooden box. He opened the cap and drank this bottle all in one try. “New stuff,” Q burped.

All the revelers stared at Q in amazement.

“What?” Q snarled, as he picked up another bottle from his liquor case. This one he put aside since it had a cork in it. He wasn’t going to waste the really good stuff on a drinking game.

“You just drank a bottle of whiskey,” Vorik explained even as he only slightly slurred the words. For though Vorik had undergone all of the Vulcan disciplinary rituals, and normally would never have been bothered by the alcoholic content of human liquors; well, when a Vulcan drinks a prodigious amount of anything alcoholic, it will eventually have an effect on Vulcan physiology.

“Aren’t the rules of the game all about being drunk under the table? It doesn’t say anywhere about how much one drinks, does it? There are no limits, correct?” Q countered.

“Q has a point.” Neelix nodded his head in agreement with Q as he mixed a little leola root juice in a pitcher with some teaberry and sauerkraut punch before he poured an entire bottle of whiskey into it.

Everyone ignored Neelix’s unusual choice as a mixer. They knew it was his beloved leola root juice. For they were used to Neelix doing strange things with leola root juice by now.

“There are no limits,” Ayala announced from a window table where he had been silently watching the festivities. “At least, there were no limits when the Maquis played this game. And there weren’t any limits with the ‘Fleeters when I played with them, either.” 

Tom decided to move matters along. Everyone was approaching a familiar state of contentious alcoholic ‘no return’. So he stood and raised his glass in a toast. “To Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay!”

“Live long and prosper!” Vorik proposed.

“Fornicate and fertility!” Neelix added. He noticed the way everyone was looking at him over his toast. “That’s an old Talaxian toast for the bride and groom,” he explained. 

Rather seriously, Q spoke out. He stood first, lifted his arm and then waited until everyone who was drinking, held a refilled glass. “To Kathryn and Chakotay - may they forever know life’s joys. I truly do wish them happiness.” Q finished his drink with one swig.

“Here, here,” the rest agreed as they drank their shots.

Tom never thought that he’d ever join Q in a toast that the being had proposed. But for Kathryn Janeway - and Chakotay - he would.

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

Error #9B: “…so ear-lye…in the morning…”

 

“He’s never going to stop,” a deathly-ill Tom Paris moaned.

Q downed another bottle. This time it took him three glugs.

“No, he’s not,” Harry agreed, as he lifted Tom’s head up, off of the floor. He cleaned Tom’s face as best he could with some napkins from off of the table. If there was one thing he had learned at Starfleet Academy, one should never let a friend lie face down in a pool of his own vomit.

“Do you surrender, Mr. Paris?” a sober-sounding Q politely asked.

Tom waggled the one finger left on his right hand that still had some feeling - and mobility - in it. He conceded his defeat even as he aimed his head for the floor again. Harry made sure that Tom landed on a clean spot. For that’s what friends are for…

Harry surveyed the losers as he stood. “Now what?” he sort of asked of the crewmembers in the mess hall in general. Everyone, other than himself, were collapsed in a variety of awkward positions under the tables, attached to the tables, between the chair legs, hanging over the counter, etc., so Harry really wasn’t expecting an actual answer to his question.

“Take down this formula,” Q ordered. Q no longer was standing. In fact, Q was sitting down, looking like he just might want to slide off of his chair. Of course the dining chairs in the mess hall weren’t that comfortable, so maybe it was a case of the Q simply not liking sitting on them…

“What?” Harry was startled by Q’s words. For up until this moment, Harry had thought that Q was still more sober than not.

With Herculean effort, Q pulled himself into an upright position, and imperatively stated, “Take down this formula, Harry, Harry, quite contrary... Reproduce it in your leprechaun-atary. And then shoot me full of it, or else I will die.” Q dramatically over-enunciated every spoken syllable before he slithered down the chair onto the floor as if every bone in his body had suddenly, achingly dissolved.

Harry knelt by the Q on the floor and urgently shook him. Harry was taken back when Q’s eyes glowed bright neon purple for a moment. Still, he bravely continued to try to shake into consciousness the member of the Continuum, “Q? What’s the formula?” 

“How the hell should I know?” Q mumbled before he passed out.

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

ERROR #10: “Never leave a mess that   
the captain will most certainly discover…”

 

Not quite that early the next morning, Kathryn Janeway stood in the doorway of her now-aptly named mess hall looking at the mess. In her own way, she was impressed. It must have been a most memorable finale to the shivaree. And she could look forward to discussing this matter with Crewman Paris and Mr. Neelix in the near future after her honeymoon was over. She anticipated that captain’s duty with relish.

Captain Janeway counted two chairs that were in their proper position. She wondered how the revelers had missed tossing them. Every other piece of furniture in the mess hall from tables to chairs, were not where they were supposed to be. Then the captain inspected the floor. She could not count the number of stains and biological messes that were on the floor. She idly wondered if the ship could spare the energy to replicate new flooring for the mess hall for she doubted if this one would ever be really clean again. Especially if she ordered the perpetrators to clean it using only their toothbrushes.

It took her interrogating of the computer to learn that most of the surviving members of the shivaree had already been beamed over to sickbay by Harry before Captain Janeway had made her appearance. Still, one did not have to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce what had occurred in her mess hall so early in the morning. This morning. This was not what she had wanted as a wedding activity…

“Shall I single out the miscreants for cleaning duty?” Tuvok suggested as he joined her, surveying the damage. He stepped up next to his captain who was clearly off duty judging by what she was wearing which was a long, loose, turquoise tunic and matching flowing pants. Kathryn Janeway was also wearing turquoise and silver earrings which he suspected might have been a wedding present - possibly from Chakotay. And since Captain Janeway never wore jewelry on duty, she clearly was now off-duty and had decided to take a honeymoon after all.

Kathryn noticed Tuvok noticing her earrings. And her necklace. She was not surprised by her friend’s observation. A smiled crossed her lips as she recalled exactly how Chakotay had given her the turquoise and sterling jewelry set that he had made for her himself as her wedding gift. The large carved oval turquoise pendant had an inset silver pattern of his ancestral tattoo. He had been placing a line of kisses across her naked silken shoulders before he’d attached the chain around her neck. His lips had kissed the chain, trailing its path downward with lingual kisses as the chain and pendant descended into the valley between her breasts where the pendant came to rest. Chakotay had spent a while there, kissing her. Eventually Chakotay got around to licking that place behind her ear that always drove her wild even as he’d clipped on the dangling magnetic clasp earrings (for some jeweler had invented a way to use magnetic attraction instead of piercing to hold earrings in place). And what Chakotay did next would forever be remembered as one of Kathryn’s favorite erotic wedding night events. Not that the doctor would have disapproved of their lovemaking, for the pregnant lady and her spouse had followed the EMH’s ‘what was permitted in pregnancy lovemaking’ instructions to the letter. After their multiple lovings, Chakotay when he had awakened, had promised her a proper honeymoon a few months in the future. And Kathryn was already looking forward to that shore leave with great anticipation.

“Captain?” Tuvok politely asked again disturbing her from her reverie. He somewhat correctly deduced that his captain had not gotten that much sleep last night.

“My crew?” She pulled herself together.

“The shivaree-ers were all treated by the EMH. No crewmember will miss their duty shifts.”

“Though they might wish to do so,” Kathryn softly added under her breath. For she’d been there herself on a few occasions when she was an ensign.

“Quite probably,” Tuvok agreed. He glanced down at his padd. “I have been informed that Mr. Paris challenged Q to a drinking game last night. In your honor. Q supposedly won, according to Ensign Kim. But considering the fact that Mr. Paris is safely tucked away in his quarters, and Q is currently residing under a game table by the bulkhead, I would say that Mr. Paris is the probable default winner of such a game.”

“Tom was defending my honor?” Captain Janeway innocently asked. She might have to start calling him Ensign Paris again, when all was said and done.

“According to Ensign Kim, who was the only sober survivor of last night’s event, Mr. Paris was.” After the events of the past forty-eight hours, Tuvok had resigned himself to not correctly guessing Mr. Paris’ rank. In short, Captain Janeway was very moody. And the Vulcan was coping as best he could.

“You’ll have to commend Mr. Kim in your log, temporary-Captain Tuvok,” Kathryn added.

“The doctor has informed me of your acceptance of your medical status change. A wise decision, captain. I have duly noted the command change in my official log. When Commander Chakotay returns to duty, it will be by your decision, and then he will assume command. I have been given the understanding that you will not be returning to duty until six weeks after your son is born.” Katherine indelicately snorted. Tuvok correctly surmised that Captain Janeway would be protesting the doctor’s official orders within days of giving birth to her son. “And as for Mr. Kim, I would prefer to make the commendation in my personal log, Captain Janeway.”

“You don’t think that Starfleet Command should know about Q’s shenanigans on board my ship?”

“I do not think that it is a wise or necessary report to make considering this situation…” Tuvok nodded in Q’s direction on the floor.

“…unless the current situation with Q gets out of control.” Kathryn added, interrupting her second officer. She nodded in understanding. “Unfortunately, situations with Q usually do get out of control,” Kathryn observed as she walked over to the being in question, noticed that his tuxedo was in pretty good shape in spite of his night of good, old-fashioned dissipation, and toed this member of the Continuum in the ribs. “Let’s see if we can prevent that from happening.” She pulled out her comm badge from a pocket and tapped it. “Janeway to Sickbay.”

“Captain! What are you doing out of bed?” the EMH asked. For he thought he understood all about human honeymoons and its mating practices.

Kathryn rolled her eyes, not quite knowing if she had enough fortitude to refrain from really answering that question the way that she really wanted to do.

“It’s not like the crew does not know,” Lieutenant Commander Tuvok just had to add. In fact, he’d been desirous of telling his captain that simple fact for months now.

She glared at her second officer. But she also knew that he was in the right. “I’m getting myself some breakfast,” she officially answered, responding to the doctor’s question.

“You never did eat much of your wedding feast yesterday,” the doctor commented, pleased that she was attempting to follow his medical instructions about eating. “I’d check the stasis units. I understand that Mr. Neelix put all the leftovers from the banquet in there. So far, no one has reported to sick bay with food poisoning from having eaten either the crown roast of lamb or the corned beef and leola root spuds - so it should all be safe to eat.” 

Kathryn shook her head. She really hadn’t noticed at the time, that Mr. Neelix had tried to make Irish recipes for her wedding dinner. She owed Mr. Neelix another show of appreciation.

“Someone threw a party and we weren’t invited?” the Delaney sisters stated in unison as they entered the mess hall. They looked about, saw Mr. Tuvok and stopped their giggling. “What’s for breakfast?”

“The wedding feast!” a very cheery voice announced from the doorway. Neelix entered the mess hall, surveying the damage. Not even this mess would effect his happy mood, for Talaxians as a race, had miraculous recuperative powers when it came to alcohol. Mr. Neelix’s recovery prowess was even legendary amongst the Talaxians. “Let’s get this room straightened up right away!” he announced to one and all. Some found his chirpiness to be annoying. Neelix began bounding about inspecting everything, with overflowing excitement and enthusiasm (in short what was a normal way for him to begin the day). Then he espied Captain Janeway at the far end of the mess hall. He called out to her, excitedly saying, “But first, I’ll get you some of your herbal Vulcan tea, Captain. And a brioche, maybe?”

Captain Janeway nodded her head. “Sounds good.” She studied Neelix, not quite believing how energetic he was, considering his early morning drinking activities. She added, “I’d like to try some of the corned beef. I never got a chance to taste it yesterday.”

“Kill me. Kill me now!” a piteous voice wailed from over by a bulkhead. 

Kathryn just had to go and see how her Continuum guest was doing.

Q jerked his head up and immediately regretted the action. “Better yet, kill him now before I do it!” He pointed in Mr. Neelix’s direction. “He’s perky!” Q made ‘perky’ sound like the universe’s most dreadful curse word. He sank back onto the welcoming flooring with a thud. “Kill me next.”

Before even saying it, Tuvok responded to the captain’s unasked question. “The EMH was not desirous of having a member of the Continuum as a patient.”

Kathryn bopped her comm badge again. She used her sternest captain’s voice. “Medical emergency in the mess hall,” she announced.

A moment later the doctor appeared. He noted his captain. And he noted the being on the floor.

“No.” That was all that the EMH said.

Kathryn glared at him. “What about your Hippocratic oath?”

“There is an exception to every rule. And Q is it,” the EMH matter-of-factly stated as snippily as he could.

Quite a few breakfast-seeking crewmembers had entered the messy mess-hall. Some had even started the clean-up process. But everyone froze when they became aware of the captain’s confrontation with the EMH.

Kathryn became aware of their scrutiny. So she fine-tuned her glare into her infamous ‘death’ glare which she then focused solely on the doctor. Even so, all of her crew members gasped before stepping back, away from the death glare.

“Q was a guest at my wedding.” She glared and said nothing more as if her glare was a sufficient explanation.

“Was he an invited guess?” the doctor countered, somewhat smugly.

“Yes.” The captain put her hands on her hips. The crowd gasped.

“Bless you Kathy, for admitting it,” Q whispered. Then he noticed that everyone was staring at him. He perceived the decorative vomit. “Oh, what a mess. I guess I forgot to clean up,” he croaked. He waggled a pinky finger, and everything became ship shape, cleaned up and bright and shiny on board Voyager. Even the Heisenberg condensers… “I think I lost to Tommy boy, if I can ever remember what happened…,” Q whispered, not bothering to hide his pain. “I always pay my debts…,” he dramatically promised.

Tuvok was about to correct Q about the winner of last night’s binge, but held his tongue after correctly interpreting the glare that his captain had sent in his direction.

“Doctor, you have a patient,” Captain Kathryn Janeway very politely suggested to the EMH.

The EMH knew when to fold ‘em. So he countered with, “La chi da rem la mano…” The EMH began to sing an opera aria in a very loud, deliberately off-key, very, very annoying voice.

“You’re mangling Mozart!” Q agonizingly moaned, even as he tried to lift his head. He did not succeed. The noise was excruciating.

“Wait until you hear my version of Bellini’s “NORMA”,” the EMH countered, as he bent over and scanned his patient. “I sing ‘Casta Diva’ as well as Andalgisa’s part in her famous duet with Norma. It’s a skill I recently mastered - singing two and three parts at the same time. I am sure that I will become famous for doing it. Yet, because it is a new skill, I still need to practice. Practice makes perfect, you know.” There was a malicious twinge to the doctor’s smile. “And so I shall.” The EMH continued his cacophony.

“Kathy!” Q screeched. “This noise is beyond cruel and inhuman punishment. I protest! Surely the Seldenis Treaty…”

“I’m listening to it too,” the captain calmly replied as she tried not to lose it in front of Q - or her crew. She did oh, so appreciate her doctor, now and then…

“I do not need to do so,” Tuvok logically commented. “Therefore, I must return to the bridge.” He just had to add as he left the mess hall, “Continue on with your recital, doctor.”

Kathryn sent daggers in her Vulcan’s direction as he quickly retreated from the mess hall.

“Maybe you’d rather hear my unique version of the “Bell” song from “LAKME?” the EMH blithely proposed. “I think I do the campanelle rather well.”

“Delibes will turn over in his grave if you do.” Q was exceedingly distressed, and he was losing his good humor. “I think I now understand the true meaning of that quaint phrase,” he added for Kathryn’s edification. This time when Q raised his head up, he succeeded.

“Is there anything that you can do for him doctor?” Kathryn just had to ask. There was a slight squeak to her voice for she was still biting her lip to keep from irrupting into laughter. 

The EMH nobly refrained from responding to his captain’s question with the answer that he really, really wanted to give. Instead, he chose the mundane, proper Starfleet answer. “Since my patient is a Q, I have not a clue as to how to treat a Q. Since he can alter his physical being into so many different creatures, what is one body’s medicine is another humanoid’s poison.” The EMH glanced down at his medical tricorder readings. “Though if this Q remains in his human form, there is nothing wrong with him that a century’s long sleep wouldn’t cure.” Kathryn took a step closer to her EMH keeping both hands on her hips. “Or, if you insist, he may adequately recover in a few hours - if he stays in his current, unimpressive shape.”

She leaned over and stared at Q, daring him to cause a fuss. “Are you going to stay in your human body for the time being?”

Q nodded and then immediately regretted the motion. But he knew a wise choice when he was given it. “For the time being,” he promised.

“Give him the standard hangover cure,” the captain ordered.

“Triple dose,” Q added.

“I protest,” the EMH just had to mutter. Then he saw the way that his captain was gawping at him, and the doctor wisely decided that obeying the captain’s order was a better choice for him than having Kathryn Janeway playing around with his programming in the very near future. Still, the doctor just had to break into the chorus of “Sempre Libre” from Verdi’s “LA TRAVIATA”, as he treated his patient. He sang as loud as he pleased.

As the cure took effect, Q muttered, “Bless you, Kathy.” But Q made a promise to himself. “I’ll get you for this, you… accursed holographic non-entity!” For the EMH was more of a worthy foe that he had suspected him to be. And then he disappeared.

Kathryn nodded at the doctor. “Thank you.” She took a few steps before she added, “And you might just want to go and make a house call on Tom Paris. I think that he could use some robust singing this morning, too.”

“He’s not due on duty until the Gamma shift,” the doctor informed the captain.

“I know,” was all that she said before she left the mess hall, and then ordered a transport back to her quarters before she totally lost it in public.

What B’Elanna would do to her husband after the doctor’s house call awakened her too, would become legend - and not in a good sort of way for Tom Paris.

Mr. Neelix arranged for several trays of food including the corned beef, roast beef, and his special baked candied leola root with tiny chocolate marshmallows (for some reason no one had tasted this dish at the wedding reception) to be delivered to the captain’s quarters - along with several large pieces of the wedding cake of course.

Then, as an aside to the Delaney twins, Mr. Neelix observed, “Remind me to never get on the captain’s bad side.”

=/\= =‘/\’= =/\=

ERROR #10: Getting pregnant in the first place…  
(Officially, that is. But as a woman and now a wife,   
it was hardly an error indeed…)

 

Kathryn was laughing, and laughing and laughing. She giggled, snorted, snickered, hooted, tittered, creased up and chortled before she finally paused to catch her breath. Then she told her husband about how the doctor had treated his patient in the mess hall. Then Chakotay started to laugh.

After a quick trip to her bathroom to resolve the problem that usually plagued a very pregnant lady when she laughed too hard, she returned to her husband refreshed.

By this time the yeoman arrived bringing in a trolley full of food from Neelix. After Chakotay thanked him and the door swished closed, he lifted some of the covers off of the stasis dishes.

“There’s enough here to last us for a week,” Chakotay observed checking out this bounty.

“What do they think we’re going to be doing that we’d need so much food?” Kathryn not-so-innocently asked.

Chakotay wisely refrained from answering his bride’s question. For, given her condition, the correct response was truly not currently possible…

Kathryn finally got around to telling her husband about what she did to Tom even as she settled down at the dining table.

When Chakotay stopped guffawing, all he said was, “It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. I wonder what B’Elanna is going to do to him.”

“Be sure and find out from B‘Elanna afterwards,” Kathryn ordered, as she stuck her finger into the glowing orange-colored vegetable dish with the brown puffy cylinders dotting the surface that was on the trolley. She tasted it. And then she grabbed a spoon and dug into the dish with all the enthusiasm of a pregnant lady surrendering to her cravings. She moved it onto the table top.

“What’s that?” Chakotay asked, even as he started unloading more stasis dishes, as well as plates and silverware onto the table. Without even asking, he poured her a large cup of herbal tea from a thermal pot, followed by a glass of orange juice mixed with cranberry juice, and placed it in front of her.

“I’m not sure. But it’s delicious. And it has chocolate marshmallows in it.” 

Chakotay winced at the very idea of chocolate marshmallows. And then he stuck a spoon into the casserole and tasted it for himself. When he stopped gagging he told his bride, “It’s all yours.” In the years to come, Chakotay would forever tease his wife at family gatherings, about her love for leola root with chocolate marshmallows. (She would retaliate of course.)

Chakotay then inspected the dishes that were in front of him. “Corned beef for breakfast?”

Kathryn forked several slices onto her plate. “Why not?” She added some pink cabbage as well as some buttered spuds.

Since she hadn’t complained of heart burn lately, Chakotay held his tongue.

Chakotay lifted some more lids, ignored anything that looked like a meat dish, and found a strozzapeti with spinach. He dug into this pasta dish with enthusiasm for he did remember tasting it during their wedding feast. It was even better the next day.

Eventually Kathryn got around to licking the crumbs of chocolate wedding cake with vanilla buttercream frosting off of her lover’s lips. By this time, her appetite was for something other than food. “Privacy lock!” the bride ordered as her husband decided to oblige his bride by carrying her back to their bed. In spite of their physical limitations, the lovers had a very loving, very gentle, and very memorable honeymoon. Though Chakotay consistently beat Kathryn at strip poker during most of the week.

And no one - not even Q - bothered them, for a whole, entire week. Which was of course, the true fairy tale ending to this lover’s tale, since not being bothered for an entire week would never, ever happen again…

THE END

A.N.:   
And if you would be so kind as to post a review or two, it would be greatly appreciated.


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